


The Way We Fall

by K_T_Tara



Series: When We Waged War [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: AU after Turn turn turn, Angst, Avengers come to save the day, Drama, F/M, Gen, non biological siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 10:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1775428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_T_Tara/pseuds/K_T_Tara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love is...complicated and confusing. Falling in love with Agent Grant Ward was chaos at best. Realizing he was a traitor...that was a fall back to Earth, very far and very very painful. The war is on, and for the first time they're on opposite sides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ward still loves Skye

**Author's Note:**

> This is how I so so hoped the storyline would go after 'Turn, turn, turn'. So after that episode, this can be considered an AU.

It was just her luck, really. Her really sucky, terribly bad luck. The moment she finds a family, a family that actually wants to keep her…and it all blows to pieces.

Skye sat cross-legged on her bunk, holding her new SHIELD badge in limp fingers and just staring at it. How long has it been? Four…five days? She supposed she wasn't even a SHIELD agent anymore; SHIELD didn't exist anymore.

But she had been so happy when she got her badge! For the first time in her life, Skye was officially part of a family. No one would ever know just how proud she felt when Agent Garrett said," I'm a SHIELD agent…just like you."

Because that son of a bitch turned out to be the goddamn Clairvoyant; a Hydra sleeper agent. As the Clairvoyant, what he did was atrocious and completely unforgivable. But as John Garrett…what he did was so much worse.

He trained Grant Ward.

"Where's Ward?" she asked Coulson when the Bus left without him.

That bastard was who Ward looked up to; who spent years and years conditioning him to be the perfect soldier.

He acted so normal on the phone, talking to her about Tom Brady and that he would see her soon. She was looking forward to it too.

And then not an hour after they touched down in Canada, Coulson angrily demanded his phone back to make a 'final phone call'. Less than ten minutes later, he returned and it just like that, all of Coulson's spark was gone. His shoulders sagged and his eyes were red and sad.

"Skye, I'm sorry." That's what he told her. SHIELD no longer had control of the Fridge, Hydra did, and Skye thought that she died right then and there. Ward was at the Fridge! Skye knew him well enough that he'd rather die than let Hydra take the base, he was…

"Skye," Coulson's hand reached out, as if wanting to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder but thought better of it," There's more…"

And that's when Skye's world fell apart. Ward hadn't died in the attack on the Fridge…He had been part of the takeover.

Agent Grant Ward was Hydra.

Grant Ward followed orders. He said so himself; he didn't make the calls; someone says 'Go kill that guy,' and Ward did it.

Stupid Garrett. Stupid Hydra. Stupid Ward and that stupid way he asked her out, kinda (does going out for a drink count as a date?) and the stupid kiss in that stupid closet in the stupid Hub. She hated it. She hated how much she cared about him, hated how he knew just how to get under her skin, hated that he always promised to protect her, hated that he once told her he didn't want her in SHIELD because he was worried she'd be killed.

"Argh!" she yelled in frustration and threw the badge against the wall. It clanked –quite satisfyingly- against the concrete wall before it fell to the floor.

Stupid Grant Ward.

…..

"Right now, we need allies," Coulson spoke. He was as no nonsense as he always had been when briefing for a mission," Ones we trust."

"But sir," Fitz interjected," We can't trust anyone. We still don't know how deep Hydra goes."

It was a hard truth, and everyone hated it. No one hated it more than Coulson. The not knowing, the betrayal: people they've known for years, friends, partners…betrayed by all of them…

But even in all times of darkness, Coulson knew there was always a silver lining. "There are a few," he said quietly, already knowing exactly who they could trust. People who would never side with Hydra, not even if their life depended on it.

"I've got a few calls to make."

….

The first of Coulson's 'allies' arrived in two days, time in which Skye still refused to leave her room. Everyone else had already met him, everyone except for Skye, of course. So he decided to introduce himself.

Despite a SHIELD level, password encoded lock on Skye's door, it suddenly opened with a swoosh and she literally jumped in the air.

"Ah, so she does exist," Tony Stark waltzed in like he owned the place. Skye could only gape at him –and wonder if she was hallucinating- as he glanced around her small room in curiosity. There were papers everywhere, both with encryption codes and some doodles of her own, a few laptops that she had 'borrowed', her bag and messy laundry, and then the two laptops balanced on the bed in front of her. "You know, when someone finally decided to tell me that Agent Coulson was alive," he continued, nonchalantly as if he barged into unsuspecting girls' rooms all the time," I could hardly believe it. But when he told me he had a protégé who specialized in CS…well, I had to see it for myself. I assumed he was making you up."

He looked back at Skye and she really wished she was wearing more than a pair of sweatpants and one of Ward's T-shirts (she may or may not have a drawer full of shirts and sweatshirts she's stolen over the months). "Does he even know how to use a computer?" he asked suddenly, honestly curious.

"Uhh," Skye blinked rapidly," What?"

"Agent Coulson. Coulson. Phil Coulson. Phil," he waved his hand," Whatever you want to call him."

"Umm…A.C?"

"A.C!" he pointed at her dramatically, a little bit too excited," I like it." Okay, if this was a hallucination, she was pretty sure they weren't supposed to last this long. Or be about Ironman. Wasn't she supposed to hallucinate about Ward, or Hydra, or her past, or something else?

Because there was no way the real Tony Stark had barged into her bunk in a super secret hideaway, catching her hacking into the Federal Aviation Administration mainframe on one computer, while another was trying to find it's way into the International Civil Aviation Organization.

The 'hallucination' snapped his fingers in front of her face," Hey, anybody home?"

Skye jumped; because hallucinations do not snap their fingers in your face. "Holy shit!" she cursed, rather loudly, and all of a sudden a whole slew of other curse words slipped out of her mouth.

Stark thought it was hilarious.

Once he managed to stop laughing, yet still grinning like a madman, he stuck out his hand," Nice to meet you. Tony Stark."

Skye seriously wanted to just roll up into a ball and die. What a way to meet your idol. And he just had to barge in and not give her time to make herself presentable! Still, she was rightly freaking out in her mind as she shook his hand. "Skye."

The handshake was short and to the point and she was fairly sure her own hand was trembling in shock. "Well," Stark clapped his hands together," I'm going to go find a snack. Then you can come out of your lair and share with everyone why you're hacking into the FAA and ICAO."

Then he sauntered out, whistling a jaunty tune.

'What the fuck just happened?'

….

Outside of Skye's room, Coulson stood with arms crossed and a disgruntled expression on his face. "Whoa," Tony Stark halted in his tracks and held up his hands in defense," It's like running into the father while sneaking out."

"I'm not the one you'd have to worry about," Coulson said simply, without telling who on their team would be most likely to kill him. Then with a sigh, he lowered his arms. "How did it go?" he asked," I was hoping her role model would be able to get her to come out."

"I just didn't think you'd barge in unannounced," he added sourly.

"I think she took it rather well," Stark said, then pointed with his thumb at the now closed door behind him," Did you know she can swear in three different languages?"

No, Coulson did not know that, and it was enough for him to crack a smile. It had been interesting to hear the rather laid-back teammember swear enough to make a sailor blush. If only Fitzsimmons had heard her.

"So, Coulson…" As the two began walking, Stark asked," Why did your hacker lock herself in her room?"

As soon as he asked, he knew it was a mistake. Any trace of a smile Coulson once had was now gone. Stark liked to think he knew Coulson well enough to know that his expression was now one of pain, of hurt, and then there was the anger. Lots and lots of anger. "It's…" he sighed, heavily as if the mere mention of it was a heavy weight on his chest," It's been a hard week on everyone."

While that was true, Stark knew it was more than that. But for sake of friendship, he didn't press further on it and just nodded in agreement.

Instead, he asked," So who else on our wonder team have you called in? Cap? I'd imagine he'd be the most pissed off right about now. And he doesn't even turn into a hulking green rage monster. Shame."

All this time later, Coulson wondered just why Banner continued to be Stark's friend.

"Captain Rogers' status is unknown," he said instead," No one can find him or Agent Romanoff."

'Really? They both disappeared?' Stark thought, mildly interested then shrugged it off. For now. He'd bury his nose into their personal business as soon as he could anyways. Mentally, he counted off all the Avengers. "So that leaves…Thor and Hawkman."

"Hawkeye," Coulson automatically corrected him, then shook his own head when he remembered that wasn't Clint's name. "Agent Barton," he amended.

"So…what? Do we shine a hawk silhouette into the sky?"

For a brief moment, the image of a 'Hawkeye signal' flashed through Coulson's mind, and then he imagined Barton doing his best Batman impression. He managed to contain his sudden urge to laugh, but the grin spread across his face regardless. "He might ask for it to be a regular thing."

"But I already called him in," he continued," He'll arrive shortly. No later than tomorrow."

"And our great god of thunder and shiny metal?"

Coulson shrugged at that one," Even if we could find a way to contact him, this is a little bit…below his jurisdiction." 'True,' Stark had to grudgingly admit. Anything less than alien was hardly an Asgardian's business. Now, if they were facing another alien invasion that'd be something else…

…

Just as Skye perfectly predicted less than five minutes ago, Simmons tackled her into a hug the instant she stepped foot into the 'war room' of the Bus. Then came the lecture about how unhealthy it was to lock oneself in their room for two days straight. Then Fitz forced her to sit down and eat a sandwich.

To which Skye promptly burst into tears, making Simmons cry and further confusing the hell out of Fitz. "Wh-what did I do?" he quite literally flailed and if she wasn't feeling emotional overloaded, Skye would've laughed at how he looked like a dancing monkey," It's the sandwich, isn't it? Jemma makes them so much better, but there really wasn't much of anything edible in the kitchen. So I thought a peanut butter and jam sandwich would-"

"Fitz, you're rambling," Simmons calmly reminded him and he snapped his jaw shut with a soft click.

"No, no. You did nothing wrong, Fitz," Skye told him and tried to wipe her eyes, but more tears just replaced the ones lost," I'm just…it's all just so overwhelming, and then you two are so amazing."

She smiled weakly at Simmons, whom she knew as her best friend and knowing that a year ago she couldn't have even imagined a friendship like this. "Just..thank you guys. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're the bestest friends ever."

Simmons and Fitz smiled back and Jemma wrapped her arms around Skye's shoulders once again. "That's not even a word, sweetie," she couldn't help but saying though, causing Skye to laugh. After a moment, they beckoned Fitz to join in. Who was he to say no? And soon the three friends were hugging tightly, just thankful to have a friendship like this.

It was this moment when Coulson, May, Trip, and Stark walked in. "Is this a private party or can anybody join in?" Coulson asked, smiling wryly. The three of them stepped back, chuckling lightly and wiping their eyes. Fitz turned around and pretended he wasn't just crying.

"Always have hugs for you and May, A.C." Skye smiled widely at him. Coulson smiled back…that was Skye's real smile. He almost forgot what her real smiles looked like and it warmed his heart to know that she was feeling better.

May huffed lightly in a form of laughter and shook her head with a small smile. "I'll pass."

"Stark tells us you have something, Skye," she continued, getting down to business as usual.

"Oh, yeah." And just like that, Skye eased back into her hacker role again. With a swipe of her hand, she 'threw' open two screens onto the large screen on the wall. One was a map of North America, the other of the world, with lines crossing all over each. There were many colors and lines and they had absolutely no idea what they were looking out. "We know Hydra is mobilizing, right? That means they need to amass a large force in one location. I've figured out a way to track their progress."

"They've had over 70 years to build their army," Trip spoke up," How can you track that?"

"They've been spread out all around the world," May replied, figuring out what Skye was getting to," After they've taken out SHIELD's bases, they'd still need to regroup back to their own headquarters."

"And that means planes," Skye finished," Lots of them."

"Is that what these are?" Trip pointed to the two maps," Plane routes?"

Skye nodded," Every single one since the Hub was attacked."

Stark spoke up for the first time, and that's when Skye finally noticed he had been snacking on chips while watching. "Only helicarriers have cloaking capabilities, and we all know Hydra doesn't have their hands on any at the moment, thanks to Cap. Even if Hydra's using SHIELD aircrafts, they still can't evade detection." He looked at Skye with an approving expression," Well done. You've tracked every single plane in the world using a couple laptops?"

Skye blushed under the praise from her role model. "Um, yeah. It took a while though, I had to go over records from every country that monitored airspace. China was especially hard to get into."

"Good job," Coulson agreed, then staring at the maps, he added," I doubt Hydra's using Southwest Airlines though, can you delete all commercial flights?"

A few clicks later, nearly 70% of the lines disappeared. Only three colors remained. "Okay," Skye announced," Green is all private places and jets. Red is military. Black is unknown."

"Those unidentified planes are most likely SHIELD aircraft," May mused," The private jets are of no consequence. Most are too small to transport men and arms."

Click. Click. All green lines disappeared, leaving only red and black. "Can you isolate which ones are U.S. military?" Coulson asked.

Skye shook her head. "I'm still working on that," she admitted," It's hard enough tracking Air Force, but a lot of movement has gone off the books in the past week. I can't tell the difference between a drill flight, and what's mission, and what's Hydra."

"You've still gotten pretty far. This gives us more than we had a week ago. There's a pattern here somewhere, we just need to find it."

…..

It was difficult, almost nigh impossible, to find some peace and quiet around here. There were always people moving around, at all times of day, even in the deep night like right now. It was nothing like the Bus, and Ward couldn't help but make the comparison. The first night, he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep, instead lying awake and listening to Hydra agents move around outside his door.

But…at least he had solitude. At times; Garrett relied on him for so many things. Ward liked that; that even after so much time away under deep cover, his S.O. still valued him as his right hand man. But however good he was, Ward was still only human and even he needed to sleep.

Which is what he probably should be doing right now. Garrett wanted to take back the Cube tomorrow and Ward needed to be in top form. But as always, the noise kept him awake and all he could do was lie on his bed and stare at the brick ceiling.

It was times like this that his thoughts liked to wander.

And he'd never admit it to anyone, especially to Garrett, but more often than not those thoughts wandered to Skye. Not to Hydra, not to SHIELD, not to Coulson, not to anyone else on Coulson's team. Always to Skye.

And Ward hated it.

Garrett was suspicious enough as it was. Ward had mentioned Skye's name a few times too many in the first couple days, had disapproved of Garrett having her shot for his own sick curiosity, and still his S.O. teased him about it. Every chance he got, Garrett brought it up –yes, Ward was attracted to her, liked her even- and it was like he was flaunting it in his face. And despite how Garrett treated it like it was a little candy crush –he actually called it that, word for word- Ward still saw the beginnings of flickering doubt in his eyes. It was like he was wondering just how much Ward liked Skye, and how far he would go for her. If he would stop at yelling at his S.O… or if he'd take it further.

Ward didn't like being doubted by his S.O.

So he threw himself into his Hydra work. Told them every secret Coulson ever told him, even got Garrett the gravitonium, gave Raina the hard drive from Skye. It appeased Garrett greatly, until it was discovered Skye bested them.

It scared Ward that he felt a little bit of pride for his once rookie. Even though she was probably halfway across the world, even though she foolishly trusted him with the hard drive, Skye still managed to make a fool out of them. It was just her style; if anyone tried to get that intel, then it would disappear forever. She liked holding all the cards and was too stubborn to lose; if she couldn't have her way, she'd light the cards on fire.

And now there was little chance of getting that information back, not without Skye. But by the time they figured this out, the team already knew of Ward's betrayal.

The last time he heard Coulson's voice on the phone, it had been to hear his former C.O. yell profanities at him, telling him how they had footage of Ward's part in the attack on the Fridge. Ward had picked up that phone, fully expecting to hear Skye's voice again, not to hear," You traitorous son of a bitch! You'll burn in hell for this!"

Garrett laughed so hard that he nearly split a rib.

Ward barely managed a chuckle. All he could think of was the last time he talked to Skye, mere hours before.

"Ward…Be careful."

"You, too."

He'd never get that drink, after all. All he'd ever have…was a kiss.


	2. And She Might Love Him Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skye learns that May doesn't mess around; Coulson in is trouble; and Ward is haunted by what-ifs.

...

There came a knock on Coulson's office door. "Come in," he called out, only mildly interested to see who it could be. Agent Koenig didn't readily come aboard the Bus: May and Skye never bothered knocking; and last he heard, Fitzsimmons were raiding the kitchen for stuff to make sandwiches.

Still, he was surprised to see Agent Triplett enter, head down and with an air of wariness. Coulson set his pen down and regarded the young man; truthfully he'd almost forgotten Trip was even with them.

"Can I help you, Agent Triplett?" He tried to keep his one amiable, he really did, but this past week had frayed too many nerves, revealed too many paranoias. As a result, he may have either come off as harsh or trying TOO hard to appear calm.

Hesitant to answer to such a unwelcoming greeting, Trip shuffled awkwardly in the doorway.

"Trip?" Coulson's voice was a fraction softer.

Agent Trip took a deep breath and threw caution to the wind. "Sir, I've had some...worries and wanted to talk."

Coulson sat up a little straighter. "Worried about what?"

Trip stepped forward into the office, just a tiny step, and waited til he had permission from Coulson to come further and to sit down. "It's just..." he sighed, staring at his hands in his lap," When I...found out my S.O- when Garrett," he corrected himself; Garrett did not deserve the title of his S.O. "was the Clairvoyant, was HYDRA...I... didn't know what to believe in anymore."

Coulson listened quietly, a part of himself already knowing what Trip was getting to. "You once questioned my loyalty to SHIELD because of him," he continued," And now that we've found out about Ward..." He trailed off, but Coulson understood completely.

"You're worried I think you're a HYDRA sleeper too." It wasn't a question, it was an observation.

"You'd have every right to."

Well, no wonder he had been wary to talk to Coulson about this... Said senior agent sighed deeply and sat back in his chair. This was a delicate situation and neither party had any trust in the other. On one hand, Coulson could trust in Trip...but look where that got them with Ward.

On the other hand, the hand that exercised caution, the logical choice was to lock up Trio for the time being. It had been proven in the part that anyone in connection with Garrett turned out to be HYDRA.

Still... Trip had not spent near as much time with Garrett as Ward had; he had only been assigned once Coulson took Ward away to be part of his team. If Coulson locked Trip up and he turned out to be loyal to SHIELD, they would lose a valuable ally.

"This isn't easy, Trip," he spoke out loud," I want to give you a chance, I do, but you can probably understand my doubts."

"Yes, sir," Trip's agreement came readily enough, if a bit despondent.

"So I'll tell you what. For now, you'll be helping us in any way you can-" he began.

Triplett's head shot up so fast that it gave Coulson's neck a crick. "Sir-" he gaped in disbelief, but Coulson held up a hand to let him continue.

"-BUT, you'll be supervised at all times my May, just in case I'm wrong," he finished.

Trip sighed a breath of relief. "And..." Coulson stood up before continuing to turn around to open the safe behind his desk. A few moments later it swung open and he retrieved a small black box. "You'll wear this," he handed it to Trip

He accepted it, though not without a small amount of confusion. Upon opening it, he discovered a small silver bangle laid inside.

He stared at Coulson. "You have a tracker bracelet? I thought these had to be special issued."

Coulson just shrugged and nodded. "It was Skye's. We made her wear it when we were worried she was still Rising Tide and when she proved herself, I thought it a good idea to keep it around," he explained," You won't be able to use any computers to communicate outside the Bus and your movements will be tracked and recorded at all times."

As a SHIELD agent, Triplett was well aware of the limitations that came with these bracelets. As Skye had described them, it was a complete "shackle on freedom" and a "glorified leash". And yet, a wide smile broke out on Trip's face. "This is perfect, sir."

It surprised Coulson how quickly and eagerly Trio placed the bracelet over his right wrist. It was a little small on his thick forearm, but not too constructing.

Coulson blinked. "Just like that?"

Trip smiles in a grateful sort of way. "I came here fully expecting to be locked up, sir. Even warned Simmons in case I didn't come back."

"This," he held up his arm, newly decorated with the flashing silver bangle," gives me the chance to prove myself. You don't have to worry about me disappearing or giving intel to the enemy, and I can still help fight on the home front."

He was so passionate about proving himself, about proving his true loyalties, to SHIELD, that Coulson couldn't help but smile. It felt good to have someone like Trip on the team.

"I wish we had more like you."

...

Skye always knew Agent May was a hard-ass, but she took the term 'Mama Bear' to a whole new level. After the past two days of Skye's self-imposed isolation, May made it abundantly clear that she was NOT allowed to lock herself in her room again.

She warned her explicitly that there would be severe repercussions if she did.

So the instant Skye tried to, May 'asked' Tony Stark to bypass the lock on her door. When later asked about it,he refused to say just how the older woman managed to convince him to do it. But once he did, May had no qualms about marching in and literally dragging their resident hacker out by her ear.

That's when Skye learned that Melinda May was beyond terrifying when she wanted to be. For not only did she forcibly remove Skye from her self made lair, she proceeded to put her through THREE hours of hard core training. If Skye thought Ward was a tough S.O, she learned that he had nothing on May's regiment.

Which brought them to their current situation. The two women now sat in the living space of the Bus, mere minutes after one such 'training session'. All because Skye didn't want to come out of her room for breakfast. Said girl was lounging in one of the armchairs next to May, gingerly placing a heated rice pack in her stomach.

"Ahhh," she sighed in pure relief once it touched and the soothing warmth sank immediately into her sore muscles. Her poor, abused, sore abdominal muscles. "I don't think I've ever done so many sit ups in my life," she whined and leaned back into the plush cushions.

"It's essential to build your core," May said simply and Skye envied how she appeared completely unflustered, despite doing the exact same workout.

Skye scoffed. "Yeah, well I'm pretty sure you just killed my core."

May rolled her eyes at the mouthy girl, but didn't bother responding verbally. So instead the two sat for a few minutes in silence, enjoying the quiet of the Bus. For a moment, all was as well as it could be.

Then that peace was shattered by an angry yell. "Somebody tell me WHERE the hell Coulson is!" It was male, furious, and decidedly unfamiliar.

Skye tried to leap to her feet like May; REALLY, she tried. But the 500 or so sit ups she just did made that feel like an impossible task. Just sitting up was an ordeal, and then she set herself to the task of actually standing up. Luckily, May was already standing in front of her, guarding her like a true mama bear. One hand reached out, getting for Skye to remain sitting and conserve her energy. A second voice had been heard.

"Hey! You're really not supposed to be running around on our plane. Umm, sir! Wait up!"

Skye and May exchanged brief glances. 'Fitz?'

On the other side of the room, upon hearing another angry "Coulson!", said man's office door opened and Coulson poked his head out. "Who's yelling my name?"

"THERE you are!" The unknown man suddenly appeared in the doorway and stepped into the Bus's living space.

Skye's eyes widened in shock and May relaxed back into a standing position. Even without his black and grey SHIELD winter garb and donned in just a pair of jeans and black jacket, Skye recognized him from pictures almost immediately. Agent Clint Barton stood at the edge between kitchen and living room, looking for all intents and purposes like a Berserker warrior. With his feet firmly planted shoulder width apart, arms straight at his sides, fingers clenched into tight fists, he downright GLARED at Coulson.

"You let us believe you were DEAD for almost an entire year?"

Skye bit her lip and suddenly became very interested in her phone. Ooh, he sounded PISSED.

And you know what Coulson had to say? "I'm glad you found the place alright."

Skye had honestly never seen an Avenger splutter in complete frustration and lose all grasp of the English language. If there was anything small and projectile anywhere near Barton, he no doubt would've thrown it at Coulson's head.

Suddenly, he exploded. "We went to your goddamn funeral!" he yelled at the top of his lungs and his face was becoming redder by the second," Do you have any idea what that was like? What that did to me and Natasha?"

Coulson said nothing and stepped fully out of his office. He at least had the decency to look infinitely ashamed.

Clint's voice lowered, but was no less angry, no less hurt," You're our friend, Coulson. Part of the team. Didn't we have the right to know you were okay?"

It was incredibly heartfelt and an incredibly personal moment, and Skye almost felt like she shouldn't be witnessing it. It was bad enough to having a front row seat to Coulson being faced with a former teammember, but to see an esteemed Avenger nearly breaking down...she felt like she was trespassing.

"I'm sorry."

In the end, that was all Coulson could say. Sorry for not telling his friends that he was alive; sorry for letting them grieve for a whole year; sorry for only calling when the world was falling apart. Sorry for being a bad friend.

Just...sorry.

Next thing Skye knew, May's hand was on her shoulder and pulling her to her feet. "Come one," the older woman said softly, so unlike the May she knew," Let's go see what Fitzsimmons is up to." As May steered her away, Skye glances back at the two men, unmoving and hurting.

...

As it was, Tony Stark 'discovered' Fitzsimmons this morning and while he had many nicknames for the duo, his favorite was 'mini me'. Right now, he had cajoled the two of them into tinkering with some piece of metal equipment. It wasn't part of the Ironman series, and a few markings on it declared it Asgardian in nature.

Behind the trio stood Triplett, patiently waiting. While May had been training Skye, she has unceremoniously pawned the specialist off on Stark.

All four of them looked up when the two women entered the lab. Tony was the first to speak," So I take it Legolas didn't handle it too well?"

May shook her head, leading Tony to sigh and shake his head. "He's been a little...highstrung since New York," he admitted," Not as fun as he used to be."

"Possession tends to do that to you," Skye spoke up quietly," It...changes you." Almost as one, all eyes turned to her, various mixes of confusion and concern, but she was pointedly ignoring all their gazes. Instead, her hazel eyes stared at the piece of Asgardian metal on the holotable stand, illuminated as a hologram over the majority of the surface.

It was...pretty, to say the least. A piece of bronze colored metal, shaped into a delicate bracelet.

Possession, whether by someone or something of alien nature, never left good side effects. Skye had seen that first hand when Ward touched the Berserker staff. He...changed, and for a few minutes it honestly scared her. Scared her into thinking that he might not come back, that he'd be lost to his rage and memories forever. He had yelled at her, got in her face, tried to push her away...and she made excuses for him, only half believing them herself.

But he did come back. In that church, he pushed her behind him, protected her even as his rage consumed him and he fought like the devil himself. The strength and rage eventually diminished, but the hurt never did.

It was a long time til Skye saw him smile again.

The second time, Lorelei left a mark of a different kind. Not one of pain or anger, but one of shame. Shame that he had so easily fell victim to her enchantment, shame that he had once again proven himself susceptible to influence.

It worried Skye.

Now, all of it seemed foolish. Ward betrayed them of his own will, it was his own choice to be HYDRA, to kill so many SHIELD agents. And still...she worried for him. It made her feel sick to her stomach, just knowing that deep down a part of her still hoped. Hoped that this was nothing more than another possession and that eventually, he'd break out of it and come back. Hoped that he'd give her a reason to forgive him.

God, she was a terrible realist, wasn't she?

"No more moping," May suddenly spoke," or another hour of training." Skye blanched and before she realized it, she was hiding behind Simmons. Off to the side, Tony and Trip were chuckling.

"So do we get to hear what this thing is?" she asked, trying to turn the conversation away from her and her moping. She poked at the bracelet, making Simmons slap her hand away before it made contact.

"Honestly, haven't you learned not to touch anything alien?" she was admonished.

May frowned. "How did you guys get this past Koenig? I doubt he'd allow any unknown Asgardian jewelry into the base."

"That stick in the mud?" Tony scoffed, then grinned boyishly," What he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" If looks could kill, May surely would've killed the man by now.

But he was already turned back to Skye and Simmons and thus did not see nor care for the glare May was sending his way. "Let her try it on," he was telling Simmons," I got it from some Asgardian professor from Portland; he said it would help with my anxiety. Really cool, actually."

Simmons still looked greatly skeptical, but that was enough for Skye. Before her best friend could stop her, her hand shot out and snatched the little bronze colored thing. The clasp opened easily enough and slid over her wrist, where she secured it again. There was a soft click, following by a whirring noise, like tiny clock gears winding up. As it did so, the thing TRANSFORMED, expanding like folded paper until it was five inches wide.

Once finished 'growing', Skye felt a surge of warmth spread deep into her skin and throughout her entire body. It wasn't a burning sensation, but like she had been submersed in a bathtub full of warm water and bubbles. It made her feel safe, content, calm...it made her feel like Ward was standing right next to her.

'A chill pill," she grinned happily and only realized she said that out loud when Trip suggested they give it that name. Simmons and May still appeared deathly worried, May might've looked ready to actually kill Tony, while Fitz was vastly fascinated by the brace.

Tony was grinning. "Pretty cool, huh? And comes off like this." He reached out for her arm, which she surrendered. She could feel one hand brace itself in her elbow, holding her arm secure, while the other's index finger pried gently under the metal and against her covered skin. He swiped his finger along some unseen panel and just like that, the arm brace folded back into a little bracelet.

Skye easily unlatched the small clasp and reluctantly handed it to Fitz. She felt cold and alone again.

"Fascinating," Fitz smiled, not seeing the frown on her face, and turned the bracelet over and over in his hands," It appears to be a medical instrument of some kind; perhaps to calm patients?" He glanced up at Skye," Did it feel like acupuncture at all?"

Simmons plucked it out of his hands," No, it's more likely that it has something to do with endorphins. We'll have to run some more tests on it, of course." She looked at Tony," You don't mind, do you?"

When she handed it back to him, he placed it back in his own wits and activated it. A deep sigh of relief escaped him a moment later, and he addressed Simmon's question," Go right ahead. I'm curious myself at how it works. Think maybe we can duplicate its effects?"

"If the professor had this all along..." May spoke up, a pensive look on her face," Why didn't he tell us when we recovered the Berserker staff?"

A legitimate question, and suddenly Skye felt anger rising in her. If they had this months ago, it would've infinitely helped Ward and May, both of whom handles the Berserker staff. They wouldn't have had to suffer as much, they could've eliminated the negative effects of the-

"It doesn't work on Berserkers," Tony shrugged, halting Skye's thoughts dead in their tracks.

'It doesn't work on Berserkers,' the words echoed in her head, and just like that, any hope she had came crashing down. It wouldn't have helped May. It wouldn't have helped Ward..

...

He dreamed a lot when he slept. That never happened before. Before, he'd have the occasional nightmare. Memories of his childhood, of his brother, of growing up and then the harsh training under Garrett and HYDRA.

He almost wished the nightmares would return.

No, these dreams were...happy...peaceful...and a thousand fold better than reality. Nightmares, he was used to; he could wake up from them, shake off the lingering fears and dread and he could face the day knowing it would be better than his nightmares. He could wake up and it would all be in the past, where it belonged.

Now, he'd wake up and the dread would settle in his gut and just GROW all day. Now, he didn't want to wake up.

Sometimes he'd dream of memories, time he spent on the Bus. He'd dream of playing Battleship with Skye. It felt so real, like he was back there and though in his mind he'd scream, his dream self would just smile and say," G2." Then he'd see Skye's face light up and he'd see the memory of her smile as she replied," Missed me."

Other times he'd remember sitting in the lab with Fitzsimmons, watching them tinker with the Night Night guns. Though he tried to stop himself, he'd feel his arm lift up one, testing its weight then hear his voice telling Fitz how to make it better.

He'd remember laughing as he his outside the door, listening to the three youngest members try to imitate him.

He'd remember sitting in the cockpit with May, just watching the clouds and world far below pass by. It was so peaceful and quiet and there was never any need to talk. It was a time to just relax and unwind.

And sometimes...he'd dream of what could've been...

...

He dreamed he never met John Garrett. He dreamed it was Phil Coulson who recruited him instead. He'd grow up within SHIELD happily, rising to level 7 til he joined Coulson's team, his S.O, on the Bus. The time he spent with the team would be genuine, unmarred by lies and covers, and he'd be free to be their friend.

A life with no debts except for the ones he owed to Coulson, to a man who didn't give a damn about debts.

...

He dreamed he had that drink with Skye in Dublin. He dreamed it was her room he walked into that night. They'd talk, of course, but fueled by alcohol, he wouldn't be able to resist and he'd lean forward and kiss her.

Half the time, she'd smile and tell him she'd only kiss him when he was sober. Then she'd send him to bed with a glass of water, a chaste kiss he would attempt to deepen, and a promise of more tomorrow.

Half the time, she'd give in too as they'd fall back on the sheets together.

...

He dreamed he had the courage to tell Skye how he felt, both before and after Lorelei, and she'd say," Me too." He dreamed he didn't care about his deep cover or he'd rationalize that he WASN'T compromised, and he'd freely show her how much he truly cared. Their affair would be torrid, it would be scandalous, they would get in trouble with Coulson and then Fury. Their teasing and flirting would be on a whole new level and the others couldn't bear to be in the same room as the two lovers.

He dreamed he could kiss Skye whenever he wanted.

...

He dreamed he told Coulson -or sometimes, Skye- the truth. There were so many chances, so many opportunities, to come right out and say it. To tell Coulson about HYDRA; to give the name of all the sleeper agents he knew about, then he'd step back and let SHIELD suppress the revolution before it even began. He dreamed he'd stand back, his hand holding Skye's, and know that it was all over.

...

He dreamed he confronted Garrett right after Skye was shot. He dreamed he shot Ian Quinn twice, just like he did Skye, and Garrett would be furious, or he'd laugh it off like he always did. But he wouldn't fall for it this time. He'd yell and yell and yell and tell Garrett that Skye was off limits.

He dreamed he turned his back on his S.O. and gave all of his allegiance to that dying girl in the medical bay.

...

He dreamed he never got in that plane with Victoria Hand. He dreamed he let Hand deliver Garrett to the Fridge as planned, and he'd stay behind at the Hub with his team. Skye would fuss over his injuries and would insist he let Simmons patch him up. He would feel his hacker's nimble fingers brush his hair out of his face and she'd say," It'll be alright."

...

He dreamed he ran away with them. He dreamed he was with them wherever they were hiding. He'd swear to protect Skye with his life. He'd run and hide, but he'd never feel like a coward.

...

He remembered that kiss in the Hub closet. He hadn't been lying when he contemplated if it was better he died. Then he wouldn't have to betray anyone. He would've have to betray HER.

But then she had to go and kiss him and just like that, any doubt was lifted from his heart. She cared about him, perhaps even loved him like he did her. But that kiss was all he needed. He left that closet with a smile on his face; he felt like he could take on the world and win, as long as she gave him more kisses when he returned.

...

He once dreamed that SHIELD or HYDRA never existed. He dreamed they ran into each other on the street, just two completely normal people. It didn't matter who they were, but when they met for the first time, something would just...snap. All of these 'what ifs' would somehow come together and they'd just KNOW...they belonged together.

She'd smile shyly at him, her curly dark hair blowing slightly in the wind. Her hand would reach out, offering a handshake. "Hi. I'm Skye."

He'd smile back, a familiar warmth settling in his gut, and he'd take her hand. "I'm Grant Ward."

...

And every morning he'd wake up with a smile on his face, but it would fade away the instant he realized they were just dreams. The outside world existed and no world existed where he could live happily.

And every morning he'd ask himself the same questions, questioned that made him feel like someone stuck a knife in his ribs and TWISTED.

What if Garrett asked him to kill Skye?

What if he couldn't?

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay, a few things to address from this chapter. I thought it weird that the team so readily accepted Trip to be loyal on just Simmons' word. So I incorporated Skye's old bracelet back into the story.
> 
> Second, we all know that not everyone knew Coulson was back from the dead, including his old SHIELD teammates. So it stands to reason that at least one of them would be pissed off and emotional. Stark probably already knew (he likes to hack SHIELD every now and then), and I'm guessing the rest of the Avengers didn't know. So when Clint found out, I reasoned that he'd be pretty upset. Because after all, one of his close friends was presumed dead for the better part of a year.
> 
> Third, Tony's little Asgardian bracelet will play a part in this fic. I didn't just throw it in there for filler.
> 
> Fourth, I thought it'd be crucial to show a Ward that wasn't just pure evil or pure good. I want him somewhere in between and he himself doesn't even know where he is. He honestly thinks he's doing the right thing by serving Garrett, but his subconscious through his dreams keeps tempting him with all the 'what ifs'. I want him to question everything, especially himself.
> 
> Halfway through his monologue, I realized I hadn't said his name ONCE. So I just went "eh" and thought it'd be a cute pattern til he said his name himself.


	3. Skye has a new friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Skye and Clint have a serious talk and Ward is in a shitload of trouble. Someone's always in trouble.

Four hours later found Skye sitting in the Providence tech office, surrounded by computer screens but she wasn't looking at a one. Instead, she was curled up on a comfy swivel desk chair, her knees pulled up to her chin and her eyes staring at her phone. Luckily, Koenig hadn't confiscated this one as she had proven this one couldn't be traced. Not that she was planning to call anyone from the outside world. Everyone she cared about was either here, dead, or...unsafe to contact.

"Is that him?" a deep voice spoke up right behind her and Skye screamed, dropping her phone in the process. It fell to the floor with a clatter, sounding much like her badge she had thrown at the wall.

Unlike the badge however, she scrambled to pick her phone up off the floor, where she could see the image still illuminated on the screen. She wasn't as fast as Clint Barton though. He had bent over and picked up the phone in his calloused hand before she even untangled her legs from the chair arms.

Skye fell silent as he raised the phone to his face and she knew he was inspecting the picture. She had many pictures saved on her phone, but there were only fifteen or so she really cared about...the same fifteen or so she was too ashamed to tell anyone else about.

The one Clint stared at so intently was Skye's favorite photo of Grant Ward. It had been one of their days off and he had been lounging about the Bus in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Skye caught him in the kitchen making a sandwich (his favorite) and wanted to take a picture of him smiling.

It took her twenty minutes of bad jokes and funny faces before she got him to laugh. The following picture was her masterpiece and despite how many times he asked her to delete it, she steadfastly refused. She liked the picture of him laughing -and actually showing teeth!- and for once looking relaxed.

She liked to think this was the only picture in existence that showed the real Grant Ward and not some cover.

Back in the present, grey eyes looked up and Skye tries really hard not to flinch under that all knowing gaze. Clint blinked once. Twice. Then- "Does anyone else know?"

About the pictures? No- Skye bit her bottom lip and worried it between her teeth- he was asking if anyone knew about the reason for the pictures. Why she still had them and if they knew that she would sit for hours staring at them...

"No, I don't think so," she admitted.

Agent Barton dropped the phone into her hand then grabbed a nearby vacant chair. The wheels made a slight squeaking sound as he wheeled it over and then he plopped into it with a heavy sigh. "I don't even know where to start," he confessed and suddenly, he looked and felt a hundred years older than he actually was.

"Am I in trouble?" Skye asked quietly, misinterpreting his comment. She knew that Ward was HYDRA, and she could get in trouble if anyone thought she was compromised. If Skye was a smart girl, she'd forget about Ward and at the very least, she should hate-

Clint laughed, but it sounded more bitter than amused," You know, we all promised Director Fury that our circumstance was once in a lifetime...that it would never happen again. And yet, here we are again."

He didn't miss the frown she sent his way. "Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?" she asked, snarky as ever, and this time Clint really did chuckle.

"It's supposed to be classified, but I guess since there's no more SHIELD, I can tell all the secrets I want," he chuckled, then sat forward with his hands folded in front of his face," Did you know that Natasha used to be the sworn enemy of SHIELD? She was from the Red Room."

The shock was evident on Skye's face, but he continued," Yup, a bonafide Russian spy. One of the best...and the deadliest. Fury set me out to take her down."

Skye leaned forward in her own chair, hanging onto every word of his story, trying to imagine a world where Hawkeye and the Black Widow weren't inseparable partners. One couldn't even say 'Black Widow' without adding 'Hawkeye' into the sentence. "What then?" she pressed, waiting to hear how the story ended. Obviously he didn't follow orders or else they both wouldn't be alive today. So how did they end up on the same side?

"I did the single most stupid, dumbest thing possible," Clint admitted and shook his head," I fell in love."

Skye bounced in her seat and had this been a couple weeks ago, she would've squealed in girlish delight. "Oh my God," she grinned and her eyes sparkles," Really? You and her are...?" She waved her hands vaguely, trying to prompt him to tell her the exact status of their relationship. Oh, she hoped he said," Married"! It would be the sweetest thing ever.

But alas, he did not elaborate on his current relationship with Natasha Romanoff. "And she knew it too," he said instead," Even seduced me at one point; tried to use my feelings against me."

"Did it work?"

Clint waggled his eyebrows," She's my girlfriend, isn't she? I'd say that's one battle that I won."

Skye laughed, and it felt good to laugh for the first time in days. "And Fury agreed to it? I mean, SHIELD doesn't allow relationships, not to mention... Fury wanted her dead."

He just shrugged," I didn't give him a say in the matter. I threatened to kill anyone who dared touch her, and told Fury I was done if he didn't allow her to join SHIELD."

"And he said YES?" Skye was dubious.

"Coulson stepped up and offered to be her SO."

Clint leaned back in his chair, staring at her thoughtfully. His grey eyes were piercing and all seeing, just like his namesake, and Skye fidgeted under the scrutiny. Why did it feel like he was literally staring into her soul, seeing everything she herself didn't quite know.

"You know, you and Ward...You're just like me and Natasha," he finally said.

The retort was ready on Skye's tongue, ready to rebuff any insinuations on her feelings regarding Ward. The same as she had done since the Hub. "I don't love Ward. He's-"

"He loves you."

And just like that, all of the air left her lungs in one big whoosh. No one had ever actually, you know... SAID it, out loud. Sure, Skye knew he liked her, was attracted to her, but it either ended there or it was all a lie too.

But to think... 'He loves you.' The possibility that Grant loves her? And the word 'loves'? Not 'loved'. Present tense, not past. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"It was just a part of his cover," she heard herself saying before she could even think it over; she just needed to voice all of her fears, let SOMEONE know what haunted her at night," Just like he did with May. He used our feelings and our trust against us. He never cared."

After a patronizing glance, Clint flicked a rubber band at her.

"Ow! What the hell?" That stung! Still kinda did, as she rubbed her bare arm where he hit her. She could hardly believe it; Hawkeye from the Avengers just flicked a freaking rubber band at her!

He was clearly unsympathetic to her plight. "Get your facts straight before you make assumptions," he said plainly, a hint of ire in his tone.

Skye eyes him warily. Was he...defending Ward?

He sighed at her dubious look," I understand why he seduced Agent May; she was the biggest threat and could probably kill him easily."

"So then WHY would he need to seduce YOU? He was already your S.O. And I hate to say it, but you're not a threat to him; it's not like you could kill him."

'I could try,' some dark side of Skye's personality echoed, but the majority couldn't deny Clint's logic.

Then he had to look at her again with that knowing look in his eyes, the one that made her want to squirm in her seat. "Did you know that when you're possessed...you can't lie."

"Huh?"

Fiddling with another rubber band he had found, he thought a few minutes on how to word his next sentence. "When I was...when Loki took over my mind, he asked me what Natasha's weakness was," he said quietly," And I DID. I told him all of her secrets, everything that she regretted in her life, everything that could be used to hurt her, everything I... that I promised I'd take to the grave with me."

"I couldn't help it. I couldn't lie; I couldn't NOT tell him. I just-" Clint paused when he felt a small hand placed over his much larger ones. It was only then he realized that he had been clenching them tightly into fists, the rubber band forgotten.

He glanced up and saw Skye's brown eyes wide with concern. "Hey, that wasn't your fault," she gently told him," Loki did all that. It's NOT your fault."

He almost smiled; she sounded so much like Natasha. 'She'd like this girl,' he thought of his best fried and partner, she'd want to wrap this little girl up in a hug and protect her and keep her safe.

"I'm still getting used to it," he admitted," You're just like Nat; she's always reminding me that it was Loki, and not me."

"You should listen to her more," Skye chided," She's right."

'Yup, Natasha would DEFINITELY like her.'

"What I was TRYING to say was," he started again, trying to get back on track," When I was talking to May earlier , she mentioned that when Lorelei possessed Ward, the same thing happened. Lorelei wanted to know weaknesses, secrets she could use to hurt your team."

"She thought to torment Agent May by using Ward because of their...well, affair," he shrugged; he really couldn't think of a better word. Words were more of Natasha's thing, his was more along the lines of climbing really high and shooting people with arrows.

Across from him, Skye made a disgusted face at the mention of Ward and May's...relationship. "But here's the thing," Clint continued," When he told Lorelei who he loves, he was honest about it."

Clint was well aware that Skye was looking at him with fearful eyes, knowing what was coming but afraid to face the truth. To hear that the man she was supposed to hate, the man whom everyone believed to be an evil psychopath, the man who was the enemy...

"He said he loves YOU."

...or perhaps the scariest part was that maybe...she loved him back, Clint thought as he watched Skye burst into years.

...

His dreams were starting to get a little ridiculous. Of course, he should be more concerned by the fact that he was lucid and KNEW he was dreaming, but Grant had figured out years ago that if he was happy, then he was dreaming.

The currant dream he was trapped in (or chose to be 'trapped' in) involved his old team, as usual. With a few...additions.

"Fitz...trimmons?" he echoed back after Dream Coulson's use of the word. Dream Coulson's eyes just gestured to the lounge area of the Bus, where the two scientists and specialist sat talking loudly and laughing wildly.

Before he could ask Dream Coulson why Triplett was even on the Bus, a different voice shouted out. A voice much younger and more squeaky and...childlike. "Daddy, catch me!"

It was only Ward's fast reflexes and superior training that allowed him to turn around in time and catch the four year old child jumping off the kitchen countertop in a Superman pose. It was only when he felt the weight of the kid settle in his arms did he register the words.

'Daddy?!'

Ward held the giggling boy at arms length and stared incredulously. It was like looking into a mirror from the past. This young boy was identical to himself; Ward had only once seen a photograph from his childhood, but this boy was the spitting image of that picture he had stolen from his Gramsy's house.

But... "Huh?" was all he could articulate.

"Douglas Leo Ward!" a female voice that Grant Ward RECOGNIZED with every fiver of his being suddenly shouted out," What have I told you about climbing the counters?"

As one, both father's and son's eyes widened in surprise and Grant nearly dropped his...son? Holy shit, even in his mind that sounded so strange. Grant Ward and his son. 'Son,' he tested it out again. Nope, still just as weird and foreign.

And then he looked up and his breath caught in his throat. A very pregnant Skye stood in the doorway, hands on her widened hips and a no nonsense look on her face. If that wasn't enough to make his jaw drop, then little Douglas saying," Sorry, Mommy. I won't do it again," certainly did the trick.

Grant could not take his eyes off Skye, his eyes were wide and he knew he was staring, but hey, this was a dream. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. So he stared unabashedly as she lightly scolded their son ('Their SON!' Grant echoed victoriously in his mind) before forgiving him for breaking some rule Grant did not know about. All he wanted to do was stare at the lovely vision a pregnant Skye made, and so he didn't realize Douglas began struggling to be out down. Grant didn't even realize he had the small boy nestled securely in his arms, not until he crawled out of his arms like a monkey. Giggling, Douglas ran off to play with Fitztrimmons.

'This is a first,' Grant thought, blinking slowly, almost afraid he'd wake up here and now. He didn't want to.

He'd never dreamed of children before. Never even once thought it possible to be a father. So he never considered or entertained the thought of being a father himself some day. He was a secret agent for HYDRA; not exactly the best career to have a family. And with his track record, how could he ever possibly be trusted with kids of his own?

And then this dream had to come along with a son that looked just like him (and happy and healthy, by the looks of it) and another on the way. This dream taunted him, teased him with the possibility of a future with Skye, of her being the mother of his children. 'She's beautiful,' he thought, seeing the way she glowed with maternal love.

Dream Skye giggled and shook her head at their son's antics, then waltzed up to Grant. He didn't even realize nor care that Dream Coulson was no longer by his side. All he wanted to was take her into his arms and kiss her until the world fell away.

"Ward," Dream Skye called out to him. She sounded so far away, which he couldn't understand. She was right in front of him, just out of the reach of his arms.

"Ward." That's when he realized it wasn't her talking. Her lips weren't moving.

"Hey, kid. Wake up."

Grant groaned in frustration.

...

By the time Ward opened his eyes, he was already glaring. If his S.O. and mentor wasn't the one looking back at him, he probably would've killed whoever dared wake him up. Instead he just sat up and grumbled at Garrett," Something you need, sir?" If he came off a bit gruff, he could blame it on lack of sleep.

Garrett frowned. "You're late for training with the recruits," he informed Ward," What's wrong? I thought you were a morning person." He was , and Garrett knew that. So to any other person, it might've sound like a man expressing concern to his pupil. But Grant knew the hidden implications: Garrett was doubting him again, questioning his capabilities.

"I like my sleep," was all Ward retorted back, hoping it'd be left at that. He really didn't need Garrett to question him over his slight change in sleeping habits. He swung his legs over the edge of his bunk and stood up, hoping to show that he was wide awake and ready as ever. Ignoring Garrett for the most part (he was still a bit miffed over being woken right at the good part) Ward began preparing for the day, rummaging through his duffle for a clean shirt. 'I'll shower after training,' he shrugged.

"Tell the recruits to practice drills until I get there," he called over his shoulder," They've been getting sloppy with their hand to hand."

He expected Garrett to respond with some witty quip -he always did- and then slap him on the back in that overly forceful way he was prone to, then leave him alone. He didn't do any of those.

"Terekhov's got the recruits today," the older man said instead, not moving from his spot in the center of the room. Ward froze in the process of putting his shirt on and shot a look at his S.O. Garrett cocked an eyebrow but didn't elaborate. Slower than he had been doing before, Ward lowered the gem of his shirt the rest of the way and methodically tucked the ends under his belt, never once his eyes off Garrett. The usually sarcastic man was being oddly serious this morning. "Do we have a problem, sir?" he asked.

"We do," came Garrett's curt reply," It's your girlfriend."

'Skye...' The reminder of her hit Ward in the stomach like a sucker punch and he had to resist the urge to flinch. Truth be told, he SHOULDN'T have known Garrett was talking about Skye in the first place; he never used her name. She was always 'the girl' to Garrett, but to Ward she was the closest thing he'd ever have to a girlfriend. She was the only one he could imagine in that role.

She was a weakness and Garrett knew it.

Still, he had to at least TRY and pretend he didn't know Garrett was talking about Skye. "Which one, sir?" he slapped on a cocky grin; it seemed to work for his S.O. all the time," I've got a lot of girlfriends."

Garrett was unamused at Ward's attempt to emulate him. "Skye."

The grin fell from Ward's lips. "Sir?"

"Raina's lab in five," he was told, then John Garrett stalked out of his room.

...

Raina's lab was busy as always, bustling with a minimum of five separate scientists. That wasn't including the random HYDRA agents used for the grunt work. Ward hated being here, for various reasons.

Primarily, Raina creeped him out. She always had that dead look in her eyes, staring straight into you as if she could look into your soul. And she loved to talk in riddles and half the time no one knew what the hell she was saying.

Garrett said the memory machine kinda fried her mind, but Ward's convinced she was this creepy even before Garrett got a hold of her.

Also, in a part deep in Ward's heart, laboratories always reminded him of Fitzsimmons.

Right now, Raina stood in front of the large computer that was constantly trying to decrypt Skye's hard drive. There were always at least two techs working on it, as if they had any chance of getting that information back. No one but Ward knew it was a fool's hope. He alone knew from firsthand experience that when it came to encrypting and coding, NO ONE was as good as Skye. So he just waited patiently for the moment Garrett realized this too, then they could move on and forget the damn hard drive.

Judging by his ire, it seems that day had finally arrived.

"Even if we had the best working on this for ten years, we CANT decrypt it," Raina was stating. There was no hint of annoyance or anger or awe for Skye's skill, just a cold remark on the truth of the matter. Ward noticed that about her. Raina never got angry, never shower emotion really, and stated facts like she was reading them from an encyclopedia.

Garrett scowled at this update, but Ward remained impassive. He already knew all of this.

"Find her," he heard Garrett say, but he had to do a double take. 'Find her'? Ward felt his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion but it was largely overridden by the cold feeling that suddenly fell into his stomach. "Sir?"

"Find the girl and bring her here," Garrett said," If she's the only one who can open this fucking hard drive, then she's going to open the fucking thing."

'Whether she likes it or not,' the unspoken words were there for all to not see.

The cold feeling spread to wrap its icy fingers around Ward's heart. He doesn't know how he didn't shiver or flinch in that moment, he really doesn't, but even then he didn't miss the way Raina eyes him. Her disconcerting eyes inspecting him, waiting to see his reaction, waiting to pick out his weaknesses.

And then Ward had to open his stupid mouth," I can't." Fuck! It'd have been better if he just stuck his foot in than let his words out.

The moment Garrett whirled around, shock and rage evident on his face, Ward honestly thought he was going to be shot in the head. Had he seriously just refused an order? And for what, some girl that hated him more than the devil himself?

Then Ward's survival instinct kicked in and for the first time in fifteen years, he backed away from his S.O's punch. Ward didn't know what shocked them both more: his obvious rebuttal of orders or the fact that he backed away. He'd never done that before, not even once. His whole life, Ward accepted punishment willingly, believed in it even, it was how he learned best.

So never ONCE did he dodge a hit from his mentor.

"I can't find her," he felt the words slip out of his mouth easily, and he himself couldn't know if they were a lie or the truth. And that scared him even more. "Skye knows how to keep under the radar. She'll be hard to find."

"Then we find Coulson," Garrett seethed," The idiot's never been any good at covert ops. He'll show himself eventually."

Raina probably said something in agreement with him, but all Ward could see was the stern and stony expression on Garrett's face. The almost murderous look he had seen just moments before had since been taken under control, but that hardness, that rage still burned in John's eyes.

"My office. Two minutes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay then, some things to go over in this chapter. So, the little talk between Skye and Hawkeye. That was partly to show Skye's true reaction to Ward's betrayal and to show how much she actually cared for him. But mostly I wanted to create some bonding time with Skye and Clint. No, this will NOT be a SkyeHawk fic; I'm too much in love with Blackwidow/Hawkeye. (BlackEye?) I want Clint to feel like a brother to Skye, but I hate the fics that just SAY it and don't show it. You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones where it's mentioned in only one sentence, then forgotten? Well, Clint will play a much bigger role in this fic and I'm going to show how their relationship grows and how eventually Clint will just declare himself Skye's unbiological brother.
> 
> Also, I know many of you want a reunion between Ward and Skye, whether it's happy or angsty. Don't worry, it is coming soon, but like I mentioned before I need to show how these two act when separated. It's more to prove that when separated they dont exactly function the best. Ward especially, as we're about to see in the next chapter.


	4. The Darkest (and the Lightest) Part of the Soul

He thought Garrett was going to hit him, to beat him like he used to when he was still learning how to be a good soldier. He expected it, welcomed it even; perhaps it would be the one thing to finally get his head back in the game. Ward knew he was a mess; he'd been thinking of Skye too much lately, he couldn't focus, couldn't concentrate on his goals. His _real_  goals. His goals to save John and just finally be done with this war.

His memories, his _feelings_ : they were just distractions. He needed his S.O. to beat it out of him.

Garrett's room/office was ten times more elaborate (and twice as big) as Ward's room. Then again, Ward's room was nothing more than an emptied out broom closet, but that was beside the point. Garrett's room was large enough to accompany 5-7 men comfortably, so with just him and his S.O. standing in it, to Ward it looked much bigger.

But still… _'What an odd place to discipline me,_ ' he couldn't help but think. Usually Garrett preferred to do it in front of other Hydra members; displaying Ward's weakness in front of other made the lesson sink in deeper. "Take off your gloves, kid," Garrett ordered. His voice was back to normal, under control, and Ward wondered why he sounded so pleased with himself. Halfway through obeying the command -he did so automatically and without questioning- he suddenly wondered,' _Why?'_ But he didn't ask; he knew better than to ask.

So he just calmly took his gloves off and stuffed them into his pocket.

"Come here," came the command and he obeyed, like the good soldier he was. Ward liked being the good soldier.

Then Garrett stepped away from the desk and finally Ward could see the Berserker staff sitting upon it. ' _What the hell…_ ' filtered briefly through his mind before the memories hit him. It was a slow suffocation, as if all the oxygen in the room was being sucked away. Ward knew what suffocation felt like, had experienced it on and off the field. It was a heavy weight on his chest, and no matter how hard he tried to breathe in, his lungs couldn't expand and he got no air.

He felt a lot like suffocating right now, remembering the specific memories the staff had risen to the surface the last time he held it. Memories of the past, of his brothers, they belonged in the deepest recesses of his mind. Locked away and long forgotten. He could still feel the coldness, that wretched feeling, sitting in the pit of his stomach. ("50 to 60 years," that shitty Professor Elliot had said. Fucking _joy_.)

Too late, he realized John had been speaking," -think of this as motivational help for you. Something to help you set your priorities straight." Ward gritted his teeth; his 'priorities' were fucking _fine_ , thank you.

"Pick it up, son," John's voice was calm, encouraging even, so reminiscent of the first years he met Garrett. This was the voice of the man that saved a hopeless boy and taught him how to be a real man. This was the voice of the man Ward owed _everything_ to.

Grant's dark eyes roved over to his mentor fleetingly, wondering,' _Then **why**?_ ' Why make him pick up the Asgardian staff? Garrett knew how much Grant hated the thing, hated how it took over him, made him lose control. Garrett sounded so supportive, but this was _punishment_.

"You need something to focus on other than that girl," John encouraged him," A little bit of anger, to help you remember why you keep fighting. You want revenge, right? To make your shit brother pay for what he did to you all those years ago?"

"Pick up the staff, Ward," he pushed," Do what you promised me and help me, and I promise you'll get what you want."

Slowly, as if reaching through fifteen years worth of horrible memories -he was-, Grant's arm extended towards the staff. And right before his fingers closed around the silver metal, which he knew would be blisteringly hot to the touch, he thought he could hear Skye's voice.

_"You're **good** , Ward._

* * *

 

He used to have dreams. Good dreams that he looked forward to every night, dreams in which he could escape the world for just a little while. Once, in the beginning, he worried because they left him waking up hating his life and his choices. They made him regret; Ward did not have time for regret. So he pushed them to the back of his thoughts during the day, ignoring the whispers in the shadows of his mind.

Now, he wished nothing more to run back to those dreams. They were his only light in the darkness, the only place he could pretend he didn't have regrets. He just wanted to run away from the shadows, from his own darkness that the staff dredged up again.

First came the hot punch to his stomach, like he had swallowed a burning chunk of coal. A feeling so exquisitely painful and not even he could hide the pain on his face and he doubled over. ' _Let it go_!' he screamed in his mind, but the staff's magic held him, rendering the simple act of opening his hand incapable.

Second was the rage, the all-consuming hate and anger that bubbled up out of the pain. He knew from experience that it was impossible to contain this rage, that he was more than just steaming with anger. He was a fucking inferno, a furnace inside him and all that wrath had no outlet. All he could do was rage against anything and everything in his path.

Third, and this he hated the most and was the main reason why he hated anything even remotely Asgardian, came the memories. John was right; Ward had gotten lax, forgetting why they did what they had to do. He'd forgotten about how much he hated his brother, how much he hated that SHIELD -for all their claims to 'see and protect everyone'- didn't do a damn thing. Grant only needed to see it again for himself to remember.

But he did not see his brother from over twenty years ago. He did not see his brother at all.

 _That_ memory had been the first time he felt hate, his worst memory of his childhood. The memory that came up to clench him in its jaws was that and so much more. _This_ brought back all the feelings of hate and betrayal and fear he had felt at the time.

* * *

 

_' **She's dead…she's dead, she's dead, she's dead,'** each successive word echoed in his head too loud and too painfully, the image in front of him a thousand times more painful. Her lips were blue, her skin a deathly greyish-white, and her clothes a bloody red. ' **She's dying** ,' he reminded himself, as if he could **ever** forget, or perhaps to reassure himself that she was not dead…yet._

_Simmons -Jemma, he had to remind himself again- told them that the hyperbaric chamber would prevent Skye from losing any more blood, but until they got her to a hospital there was nothing more they could do. But Ward knew better, he knew gunshot wounds, and he knew two to the gut was fatal. It didn't matter if they stopped the bleeding by literally freezing her, unless a doctor stitched her up (and that was **only** if the bullet missed any vital organs) and Skye got more blood in her, she would-_

_He couldn't take looking at her anymore. He stormed out, trying to distance himself from that pain, from the girl that made him care too damn much. But every step he took further from her felt like a nail in his heart and he stopped just short of the SUV. There he paced like a caged animal._

_**'Why did she go in alone?!'** he yelled in his mind, wishing he could yell at her, if only it meant that she'd be okay,' **What did she have to prove? Why couldn't she just wait for back up?'**_

_Why didn't she wait for **him**?_

_But she didn't, and now she was dying. He wanted someone to pay, someone to hit, someone he could blame. He won't lie, he enjoyed storming that house, shooting (with dendrotoxin but it still felt good) everyone in sight. Wondering which one of them dare hurt Skye, which one of them knew where she was. Then Quinn had to smile and open his mouth and Ward felt his heart drop into his stomach._

_Ward wanted to shoot Ian Quinn dead on the spot… But he couldn't, so he settled for hitting the hood of the car._

_..._

_It was under orders… Quinn shot Skye under the orders of the Clairvoyant._

_As soon as the ridiculous nickname for John Garrett was mentioned, Grant suddenly felt a shooting pang that could only be described as fearful shock. Soon followed by anger fueled by lingering Berserker rage._

_**'John did this,** ' he remembered quite clearly thinking,' **Garrett wanted her shot; he wanted her dead.'** The overwhelming instinct to protect, to avenge, reared its head within him and it took all of Ward's willpower not to seek out and hit his supervising officer._

_**'He did this,'** echoed in this head as Grant stood over Skye's still form,' **He's the reason she's dying.'** And for the first time in his life, Ward felt a shred of hatred for the man he thought of as his father figure._

* * *

 

When Ward came out of the memories, he was only dimly aware that he was yelling. In pain or rage, he didn't know nor care. The anger, the wrath, coursed through him like fire and Ward just wanted to _destroy_ something.

"Easy there, Ward," Garrett's voice filtered through and Grant turned his head to glare at his S.O," Embrace that anger. Remember all that bastard did, remember how much you hate him."

Ward knew Garrett was talking about Maynard, but frankly he couldn’t give a damn about his brother. All he could think of was John Garrett and all that _he'd_ done.

' _ **He did this.'**_

And then Ward finally understood all of his dreams, finally knew why he'd been having them, realized what his subconscious had been trying to tell him. In all his dreams, he had been happy. In all his dreams, _there was no Garrett._

Garrett was the reason for all his unhappiness, for all his pain. If there hadn't been a Garrett, Ward could've been happy with his team. He could've freely loved Skye. He could've had that future with Skye and Fitztrimmons and Coulson and May and… he might've even had little Douglas Ward as a son.

And John Garrett, like the monster he was, took all of that away.

Ward took a step towards that monster.

* * *

 

Clint Barton was taking his turn with Tony's Asgardian 'Chill Pill' when Fitzsimmons and Stark pounced on him. "Oh come on!" he protested loudly when the three crazy scientists poked and prodded him back to the Bus lab," I thought we were done with all these tests." He openly glared at Tony, who was chortling by the holotable.

"That was a half hour ago," Simmons chirped, getting in his face -literally- and checking his pupils," We need to monitor everyone's reaction to the bracelet every thirty minutes for a three hour period to ascertain if the effects differ between biological status."

He simply gave her a blank look. Damnit, he was an assassin, not a scientist. "Simmons, English," he retorted.

-and immediately wished he could take it back. As a trained assassin, Clint always saw the little things, people's reactions and right now Simmons reacted badly to his words. Her face paled and her eyes widened, then blinked rapidly as if that would stop the tears from welling up, before she quickly moved away from him. He wished he knew why such a simple sentence upset her. But, he was smart enough to not ask.

"Have some patience, Katniss," Tony was saying and then Clint snorted. He's a sniper; he's the epitome of patience. "We just want to make sure it doesn't calm only some people and turn others into-" Tony paused and looked up, shrugging," well, the Hulk."

" _Joy_ ," Clint blanched.

"Just think," Fitz beamed up at him," Only one hour to go til we stop bugging you." Clint wasn't entirely sure if it was the Chill Pill or that Leo Fitz was adorable like a pet monkey, but he found that he couldn't even pretend to be mad at the nosy scientists. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, breaking his resting 'bitch face' (Natasha's words, not his). ' _Kids…'_ he mused,' _All of them.'_

"So who's next on the roster?" he asked instead.

The answer came immediately as Trip trounced into the lab (yes, he really did have a bounce to his step) and announced with his signature pearly white grin," Me." He looked far too happy for someone only an hour away from being a science lab rat. By May's annoyed expression, she agreed with Barton on that.

Who glanced dubiously at Simmons. "Will it even work on him? He's already so…" he searched for the right word," _peppy_."

Trip opened his mouth to defend himself and his infinite sense of optimism, but Simmons spoke before he could. "Agent Triplett is the perfect candidate for the test," she said with a smile and was somehow the only one who didn't notice Fitz's scowl," His optimistic personality is already similar to the traits imbued by the bracelet, and it'll be fascinating to see how it affects him, if at all."

Right. Everyone knew that she only wanted to do some more sciencing and stuff.

"Besides, we've already tried it on everyone else," Tony added.

That was true, with varying levels of success. It appeared that the Asgardian bracelet did affect people differently, or as Coulson put it, finding various and multiple ways to 'calm their soul'. For Stark, it greatly reduced his anxiety, allowing him to think and work efficiently. For Fitzsimmons both, it was like a calming balm. They could think about all that was going on, everything they didn't have an answer to, and wouldn't feel any of the resulting panic or fear. They felt more sure of themselves, more confident. Skye simply said it made her feel like she did a month ago, and Barton _somehow_ knew she was alluding to Grant Ward, but he was _so_ not going to touch that with a ten foot pole. Then Coulson claimed the bracelet calmed him; he actually said it felt like smoking marijuana, much to everyone's shock. ("Coulson, were you a hippie?" Skye asked, smirking a mile wide. )

Someone, no one really knows who and no one was admitting it, convinced May to try it on. After five minutes, she handed it back without a word.

They all have their own demons, he realized and wondered if Trip even had any. His happy go lucky attitude seemed too sincere to simply be a cover up; maybe Antoine Triplett has already faced his demons long ago and therefore felt free to be this peaceful and happy…

It took another five minutes for the tests to be completed and then Clint was free to go, after promising to return in a half hour, and he wasted no time in making his escape. Leaving the five in the lab, he decided to hunt down the only two people on this base he actually got along with. After deciding that he really didn't want to talk war and Hydra and strategies with Phil, he chose to find Skye.

The girl had a lot of haunts, a fact he both appreciated and abhorred. On one hand it was smart to have multiple hiding spots in case of attack, on the other it made finding her a difficult task. "Challenge accepted," he muttered under his breath as he walked down the ramp of the Bus.

* * *

 

Seven hiding spots later, including Koenig's office and the pantry, he found her with Coulson in one of the three cafeterias. Both were standing over a laptop and looking a bit worried. Alright, 'a bit' didn't quite cover it.

"This is really _really_ bad," Skye was saying," Quinn is the least scary of the bunch and he _shot_ me. Twice."

Clint paused midstep; she's been shot? Twice?

Coulson nodded, neither of them noticing that he had even entered the room yet. "Quinn's more a sociopath," Coulson said," A lot of those inmates are full blown psychopaths: violent, impulsive-"

"-and some with superpowers," Skye finished and that's when Clint felt his stomach drop, despite the bracelet. ' _The Fridge,'_ he realized with a jolt of fear,' _The Fridge inmates are out and free._ ' How many had he and Nat put away in there? And those were just the ones he knew of; what other psychopaths and monsters had SHIELD put away over the years?

A beat passed, in which still no one noticed Clint, til Coulson asked," Is Marcus Daniels on the list?"

Skye searched the list quick, then with a nervous glance turned the laptop around so Coulson could see Marcus Daniels' inmate profile. Phil gulped, a look of fear crossing his face momentarily," That's him," before automatically going back into 'Agent mode'," Crosscheck the inmates with crime databases. Recent activity. I have a feeling there's going to be an uptake." She turned the laptop around and began typing furiously.

"Okay," she acknowledged," but it'll take time and more computing power than I  have." She glanced up," I bet Koenig has-"

"I'm sure Agent Koenig will help you with anything you need," Coulson cut her off and by his tone it was obvious Eric Koenig would help whether he agreed to or not.

"Agent Barton," he suddenly turned to the (not) eavesdropping man," Mind if we borrow the jet you flew in on?" Clint pouted; he should've known better than to think he could sneak up on Phil.

With a nod, he walked the rest of the way into the cafeteria. "We should leave as soon as we can, sir," he said," If we hurry now, we can probably beat him to Portland." It goes without saying that he knew _exactly_ the kind of fear Daniels' instilled in Phil Coulson, and after all he had done for Clint, he was willing to help in any way he could to help save Coulson's true love.

"Not you, Barton," Coulson suddenly said, causing the younger man to freeze.

"Excuse me?" Clint blinked, affronted and even Skye stared at Coulson incredulously.

Who just gestured to Skye herself. "Skye here will remain behind to crosscheck that list," he explained," And right now, you're the one I trust most to stay behind and keep her safe."

"What?!" Skye nearly shouted, more insulted than surprised," I don't need a babysitter, Coulson! We're in a hidden base; what's going to happen to me here?"

"I agree sir," Clint threw in and soon both their voices were overlapping as they argued with Coulson. In the end, all Coulson had to do was hold up his hand and they both fell silent.

"My decision is final," he said, more like ordered," Skye, you can't forget that Garrett's after you and he won't stop. Even if this is a hidden base, I can't take the chance to leave you here alone without any protection. I'd prefer an army against Garrett, but Barton here is just as good."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Clint murmured, but didn't sound too grateful. Another time, he'd probably be tickled pink that Coulson called him a one man army. "But what about you?" he asked," They're after you too. And Daniels? He's not exactly an easy target."

Coulson reassured them," We already know how to take down Mr. Daniels; Fitzsimmons can more than incapacitate him with their gizmos. And if anything goes wrong, Agent Triplett will have my back."

"The one with the tracker bracelet on him?"

A smile was Coulson's answer. "I'm don't think you've noticed this or not, but Trip doesn't have the bracelet on anymore. Turns out, he's the legacy of a Howling Commando. He couldn't be Hydra even if he tried; there's nothing but SHIELD in his blood."

"Well that's good and all, and I'll have to ask later what a Howling Commando is," Skye piped up," but what about May? Surely she could stay with me, or go with you to take out the baddies."

"No offense, Clint," she glanced at him apologetically," But she's the freaking _Cavalry_. Her name actually _means_ army."

"Hey!" Clint shot back, clearly offended," I have a bad ass codename too! Did you forget that I'm Hawkeye? An _Avenger_?" Skye just stuck her tongue out at him briefly.

Watching all of this, Coulson couldn't help but smile. When he had asked Agent Barton and Mr. Stark to come, he fully expected Skye to befriend the Stark millionaire instantly. They both had so much in common, ie: computers and hacking and just overall breaking the law. But seeing the hacker and the assassin bicker was like watching brother and sister. And he didn’t fail to notice how the two of them always seemed to instantly agreed on something (like Clint going with Coulson), also much like siblings.

Phil hadn't been lying when he said Clint Barton was the one he trusted most with Skye's life. He'd also give anything to have Natasha Romanov here too, but he supposed he'd have to worry about that later.

Just as Skye was starting to suggest Clint get a new codename, Coulson decided to intervene. "May is actually going on a trip of her own," he told them," She and Mr. Stark are returning to New York."

"Why?" both asked, and Coulson had to stop himself from smiling at how they spoke at the exact time.

"We've recently gotten word from Maria Hill," he explained," She's in New York, and Ms. Potts has employed her to Stark Industries. But Mr. Stark needs to go and rally up his lawyers, so that she can't be arrested for being the Deputy Director of SHIELD."

"May should be telling him right about now."

A moment passed, in which both of them thought over what Coulson had just told them. Then Skye glanced at Clint," Since we're gonna be stuck here with boring, stick in the mud Koenig, want to make a list of stuff to annoy him with?"

He grinned," _Hell yes._ "

* * *

 

' _It's all his doing,'_ Ward thought darkly, taking another step towards his S.O. If it hadn't been for John, Ward could've been happy. If it hadn't been for John, Skye never would've been shot. Ward would be _with_ her right now, if it hadn't been for John Garrett.

A full squad of Hydra soldiers entered the office behind Garrett. Ward froze, eyeing the new men with a critical eye. Five men, heavily armored and armed, and he only had a glorified stick and no armor. Even Grant Ward wasn't that stupid.

"Right on time, boys," Garrett smiled at them, unaware that his life had been in danger just moments before," Please escort Agent Ward here back to his room." He grinned back at Ward and it was only then that he saw how cruel a smile it really was.

"You didn't think I'd just let you off easy for what you did earlier, did you?" he boasted," You're tough, son, and I know a good disciplining wouldn't do me any good."

"Now, you're going to sit in your quarters, with that staff, and you'll do _nothing_."

Ward furrowed his eyebrows, resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to just leap and attack. Sit in a tiny room, with the Berserker staff so near, and do nothing? That would be _torture_.

"Think of it as a chance to think about what motivates you, and why don't you work on channeling that anger. When I need you for a mission, I'll come get you and you'll get to see some action. Until then, you're grounded." Garrett grinned, as if he found it funny that he was grounding a full grown man like a misbehaving child. But before Ward could say anything, Garrett exited his office. But not before reminding the squad to ensure that he makes it to his room.

Ward growled at the first man that dared try to grab his elbow," I can walk." Then he stomped out and headed down the hallway, mindful of the guns pointed at his back in case he tried anything in his new Berserker mode. But Ward had no plans to act now; no, he'd channel his anger like Garrett suggested and he'd _plan_.

_'This is far from over.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this was such a pivotal chapter and I've been so meticulous in making sure I've got it all right. This chapter is where everything from the previous three chapters comes together. Remember in the beginning how Skye was mostly angry with and hated Garrett, more than she was with Ward? That's because she knew it was all his fault, and if it weren't for him then Ward would've never betrayed them. Well, now Ward knows it too.
> 
>  
> 
> And his dreams, they were more than just fantasies. They were yet another way for him to finally come to this conclusion as well.
> 
>  
> 
> Then we have Trip and the tracker bracelet. As a Howling Commando legacy, he's undoubtedly good, and so of course he would volunteer to being tagged just to prove himself. Even in the show, he didn't tell anyone who his grandfather was because he didn't want to be treated any different.
> 
>  
> 
> And finally, that little Asgardian 'Chill Pill' bracelet. I'm not sure if any of you noticed this, but I never went over how it affected Clint. I did that on purpose. Clint has a little bit more need for the bracelet, and in the upcoming chapter we will see how without it he has some certain…problems.


	5. What's that? Here comes a teaser chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter currently in progress. Here's a teaser to hold you over until then

The instant the door shut behind Ward and he was finally -blessedly- alone, he threw the Berserker Staff to the farthest corner of the room. However, since he was juiced up on the Asgardian magic, he misjudged his own strength and the thing ended up busting off a few bricks from the wall. Being that this was a bomb shelter, the damage was the last of his worries. He just wanted the damn thing far away from him, even if it was the five feet to the other side of the room. 

The rage still simmered through his body, threatening to burst out and consume him in its fire. It writhed and burned and crawled under his skin, and he resisted the urge to scratch at his arms. As if that could dissipate the feeling. There was too much energy, too much power, coursing through him and he knew from past experience that it wouldn't go away just because he dropped the staff. The only thing he could do was work it out, to try and use up some of that energy, to ease some of the ache on his body. 

Too bad there wasn't a heavy bag in his room, or he'd take his fists to it, quite possibly imagining John's face. Or Maynard's, or pretty much anyone in his life that he really hated. Maynard was at the top, and after today John was building his way up to second. But alas, there was no punching bag for Ward to take his frustrations out on. He briefly contemplated doing push-ups or sit-ups, but his body was already so accustomed to them that they hardly wore him out. With the amount of adrenaline rushing through him, he'd be doing push-ups for a week straight. And there was no bar on the ceiling, so that ruled out pull ups or upside down curls. Which was a shame really, because those were always guaranteed a full body workout. 

Ward paced the room, stomping back and forth between his bed and door. He couldn't work out, he couldn't distract himself with physical training, so all that he was left with were his thoughts. Garrett sent him here to think; Ward didn't want to think. He was tired of thinking. For fifteen years, he had thought that Garrett cared about him, valued him, was worthy of everything he gave for him. Now… now, he knew better. Now, when Ward stopped thinking and analyzing, and just felt, that's when he figured it all out. 

'Fifteen years,' he seethed,' Fifteen fucking years, and for what?' Ward really didn't have anything to show for it except for some half-cocked plan of revenge for something over twenty years ago, no friends, and quite possibly the loss of his humanity. This isn't what he wanted. This isn't remotely close to what he wanted when he agreed to follow Garrett all those years ago. 

Now… what did Ward want? He paused in his pacing, his head whipping up at the realization that he had no damn clue what he wanted. Ward's goals had always been John's goals, whatever Garrett wanted Ward wanted as well. No- no, that wasn't entirely true. He's had little wants, short term goals. Most of them consisted of getting out of a dangerous situation alive; sometimes he just wanted lose himself in a good book; he always loved a nice long, hot shower. 

'Those are crappy goals,' he bemoaned, realizing as nice as those things were, they weren't wants. They didn't give him something to motivate him, they weren't things to throw fifteen years away for. He needed a long term goal, something to keep him grounded, to keep him going when fifteen years of conditioning threatened to reemerge. (The anger from the Staff could only give him clarity for just a short time) What did Grant Ward want?

'I want to please Garrett, be a good soldier,' a familiar little voice said in his head, words he's repeated to himself over the years, as a comfort. Now, he pushed them away, cringing from his own thoughts like they were a plague. Those kind of thoughts had to be gone, had to be destroyed, obliterated by something else. What did he want, more than pleasing his S.O.?

S.O… SO, SO, SO, SO… the acronym echoed, the voice changing to that of a sweet soprano, ranging anywhere from teasing to sarcastic to warm. God, it was so obvious! Grant literally smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. He wanted Skye! More than anything, Grant wanted to be with her, to please her and see her make that special little smile directed only at him, to be free to love her and hold her. That's what he wanted. 

Now… how was he going to get back to her?

…

“Oh this is new.” It was slightly disturbing how starry eyed Tony Stark went when he saw what would from then on be called ‘The Chair of Truth.’ (Skye’s idea, but the name wasn’t really sticking. So okay, she was the only one that called it that.) She supposed Koenig was going for dramatic and scary, lining them all up behind an interface table –presumably for the Chair of Truth- and slowly turning the seat around so that they could all see the many gadgets hooked up to, as well as the steel restraints. 

But then Tony went and ruined the effect, walking around the table so that he could get a closer look at the chair. Koenig tried to ward him off, but the billionaire just sidestepped him and started playing with all the gizmos he could see. “Neuron sensors? Hearbeat regulator?” he peered a little closer,” Tiny camera lens, directed at the face?” He glanced at Koenig,” I presume you use it to measure pupil dilation?” 

“Yes,” Koenig sighed and literally had to _push_ the man away from the chair,” Now I would appreciate it if you would please step back. This is a very singular piece of equipment, there aren’t any other like it in the world, and I don’t want you messing around with it.” Clint sniggered openly while Trip was polite enough to disguise his mirth behind a conveniently time cough. 

In retaliation, Tony huffed and pretended the chair wasn’t really all that impressive. “It’s simple, colorless, and not very imaginative,” he snubbed,” A lie detector, really? That’s your idea of orientation?”

“ _The_ Lie Detector,” Koenig corrected, sounding almost offended,” This baby measures galvanic skin response, oxygen consumption, micro-expressions, biofeedback brain waves,” the more he went on, the more starry eyed Tony got again,” pupil dilations, voice biometrics. _96 variables in all._ ”

Okay, now the chair was starting to sound a little more intense. Skye was half worried that the machine was also capable of brainwashing; she wouldn’t put it past S.H.I.E.L.D. “Fury designed it himself,” Koenig went on,” He wanted a lie detector Romanoff couldn’t beat.”

Next to Skye, Clint suddenly straightened up. “He what?” He sounded confused and surprised, which led Skye to believe that he didn’t know about the chair. Or Fury’s machinations to create one that his partner couldn’t beat. “How come I didn’t know about this?” he asked, sounding almost accusatory.

“It’s not my place to question why Fury didn’t tell you, Agent Barton,” came Koenig’s response, in that same haughty tone that he usually applied when quoting protocol and rules. 

“Did she ever beat it?” Skye asked.

Koenig just scoffed,” Like Fury would ever tell!”

“Fine, whatever,” Coulson sighed deeply and rolled his eyes,” So we’ve all got to go through this lie detector. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to work.” He turned to the rest of the team,” So…” He was probably trying not to smile, but Coulson was never very good at hiding his amusement,” Who wants to go first?”

………….

The Chair was uncomfortable, but he’s been in worse situations. His bum could survive being stuck in a hard, steel seat for twenty minutes. The restraints he could do without though...

“We’re just gonna start with some simple questions and establish a baseline,” Koenig began, typing at the interface so that he could set the controls and readings where he wanted them,” Can I have your full name?”

So it begins. Taking a deep breath – _‘just keep honest. Keep it simple, don’t overthink the questions_ \- he braced himself with a deep breath. 

“Clinton Francis Barton.”


End file.
